Keeper of Legend
by codehappykid
Summary: Keeper of Legend. The book will never be finished, but I intend to show the first 2 chapters. They describe a Keeper's struggles to regain his power, and hint at a deeper secret, that of the Three Keepers of Legend.
1. Keeper of Legend, Chapter 1: Mog

Mog  
  
It was the first day of the new dungeon. Rathiel was not happy to have been kicked out of the last one, but hey, what can you do when you simply are outmatched? He had floated around in ethereal form for a while, and ended up getting sucked through a portal into this little place. He had bonded instinctually with the dungeon heart, and now here he was. How nice of the dark gods to provide him immediately with free imps!  
Soon, the imps had excavated an area for a room to be built. They were instructed by their dark master to build a lair. Rathiel was pleased; he expected the hired help to arrive shortly. Being defeated once was quite enough; this time, he would create a glorious dungeon and conquer his enemies.  
Having built the lair, the imps set about reinforcing the walls to increase their protection against attack. Rathiel gazed out from his dungeon heart in search of the portal that had summoned him here. As luck would have it, he had amassed enough power to find it. He ordered the imps to tunnel a path to the portal. It was time, at last, to get to work.  
***  
The imps stood around idly after the work had been done. One of the imps started jumping about and running into walls. The others were slightly concerned.  
"Hey, Raza, why are you doing that?"  
"Yeah, we worked hard on those walls!"  
"You KNOW Rathiel's gonna make us clean that up."  
Raza, the hyperactive imp, stopped to respond. "Sorry! Mana surge! I get jumpy when these things happen!"  
"What do you mean, mana surge?"  
"I mean MANA SURGE! Do I have to spell it out for you!?"  
Raza dashed off in the direction of the portal, and the other imps followed dumbly. When they arrived at the portal, they stood awestruck. Mana was literally streaming in ribbons before their eyes. A massive creature was coming through the portal. Its eyes gleamed with a hellish red and its black wings spread from wall to wall. The creature was covered in an aura of pure, mystical power.  
It was a dark angel. Its name was Mog. A roar came forth from its larynx, and transformed to words they could all understand.  
"I AM MOG. SLAVES OF THE KEEPER, BOW BEFORE ME!"  
The imps were all pressed down by the outstretched, ethereal hand of Mog. Mog drifted through the air past them, moving towards the lair. As he passed the dungeon heart, he spat upon it and said, "KEEPER, YOU HAVE NOT DEVELOPED TO ACCOMODATE ME. I SUGGEST YOU DO SO QUICKLY."  
Raza stood up and glanced in the distance. "I don't like him."  
***  
Rathiel was painfully aware of Mog's demands. He was not yet ready to force a dark angel into submission, so he had to submit himself. From his wealth of cosmic knowledge, he drew out the plans for creating a temple. It would not be a simple feat. Creating this temple required a constant flow of mana, which he would have to provide. In addition, it was too complex for the imps to design. He idly gave the order for them to excavate the temple under Mog's direction.  
"YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS PUNY ROOM WILL HOUSE MY TEMPLE? YOU THERE, DIG THE LEFT OUT FURTHER. I WANT THIS TEMPLE TO BE CIRCULAR. YOU DO UNDERSTAND CIRCLES, DO YOU NOT?"  
Raza wanted to jump in Mog's face and kick him, but his friends held him back. They placidly went about digging the circular base for the temple. Mog watched the imps work. Yes, he would have one of them sacrificed.  
Rathiel watched all of these things happen. How dare this pompous outsider push HIS imps around? Rathiel swore to himself that he would force Mog out. No, he would not do that; he would kill Mog. Yes, exterminate the pest so he couldn't do this to any other new Keepers. But how? Hopefully, he would have enough power soon.  
The imps listened to Mog's endless whims for how the temple should be built. "...AND THE STATUE OF ME GOES IN THE CENTER, WITH THE WATER FLOWING AROUND THE BASE, AND THE POOL OF WATER MUST BE A PERFECT CIRCLE, AND I WANT LITTLE FIRES KEPT BURNING ALL DAY AND NIGHT AROUND THE EDGE OF THE POOL, SET UP AT PRECISELY 30 DEGREE ANGLES FROM ONE ANOTHER, AND..."  
Raza and his friends just started blankly, nodding in earnest from time to time. They didn't even know what a degree was, let alone how to measure one, or thirty. All they knew was, Mog wanted a pool of water with fire around it. They hoped Rathiel would give them a little help, because this job was over their heads.  
Mog finally got tired of directing and went to set up his lair. He plopped all the materials down in the center of the room and designed a grandiose sleeping chamber, which cast its shadow all around the room and took up a full quarter of the total space. Then, he walked in and went to sleep.  
***  
4 hours later, the imps awoke refreshed. They ran around everywhere, doing their checkup rounds for the entire dungeon. Seeing all was satisfactory, they gathered around the dungeon heart and communed with their master.  
"O great Keeper, creator of all imps, we come before you in prayer - "  
Rathiel interrupted them. "Yes, yes, get on with it, I've been waiting for you to talk to me!"  
Raza started. "Ah. Yes, um...how do we drive Mog out?"  
"We don't."  
"We...don't?"  
"No. You see, eventually we have to kill him."  
"How do we do that?"  
"I have a plan. But first we must wait."  
"Very well. We are but servants, O master."  
"Go now and do my bidding. And, set up a hatchery will you?"  
The imps broke the commune and hastily dug out a place for a hatchery. They used the plans that had been fed into their minds. The ground had to be designed properly in order to incubate the staples of the underworld.  
They trampled and mulched the dirt, spreading their bags of magic seeds throughout. Once this had been done, they smoothed it all out, trampling and using their hands as well. Then, they dug a small hole in the center of the hatchery, in which they placed a single egg.  
Rathiel pumped mana into the ground, and it came to life. The egg dissolved into the ground, and small, mindless animals began appearing. Plants of strange types grew from the seeds in the soil, and soon, there was a menagerie of life in this room. It would sustain his creatures well, thought Rathiel.  
No sooner did this miracle occur than a small mana spike caused Raza to jump. He yelled, "Mana spike!"  
His friends were dismayed. "Not again!?"  
"No, that was SURGE. This is spike. It's smaller. Let's see what came through!"  
The imps waited patiently by the portal. As the small form took shape in the dungeon, they recognized it as a goblin. Raza stepped forward.  
"Greetings, friendly goblin! I am Raza, an imp of Rathiel. What is your name?"  
The goblin, feeling slightly bewildered, stepped off the portal dazed. "I am called Drabl - I guess."  
Raza helped Drabl into the lair. As they approached, Mog stepped out of his sleeping chamber.  
"WHO IS THIS INFIDEL WHO ENTERS MY REALM? SPEAK, FOOL, WHILE YOU HAVE A TONGUE!"  
Drabl was confused again. "Um, I am Drabl. Who are you?"  
"FOOL, I AM MOG! MY TEMPLE IS NOT YET COMPLETE, FOR THESE HALF-WIT SERVANTS OF RATHIEL DO NOT COMPREHEND MY INSTRUCTIONS!"  
"Oh...ok. I salute you, then."  
"IT IS A START! IN TIME, YOU WILL WORSHIP ME! BUT FOR NOW, I GO TO OVERSEE THE SITE OF MY TEMPLE!"  
Mog strode off into the opposite end of the dungeon. Raza turned to Drabl.  
"Don't mind him. He's a twit. Come, I will help you set up - "  
Raza's mouth dropped at the sight of Mog's immense chamber. This was a space issue, but he couldn't exactly talk to Mog about it. So he just continued his message.  
" - Your lair. I assume you don't mind a relatively small place?"  
Drabl stared at Mog's chamber too. "Uh, no, I can handle small."  
***  
Raza was in the middle of his work when he felt a mana spike again. He jumped. Then another spike came, and another. Raza became very perky and kicked off walls, leapt high in the air, and ran around speedily. As more and more came, Raza sped up so much that he ran up the walls and zipped across the ceiling. He spun around in circles like a baby tornado, and finally ended up passing out near the center of the lair.  
Raza had just gotten high.  
A stream of goblins made their way into the dungeon. As Raza's best friend, Merca, dragged him from the lair, the other imps greeted the goblins and helped them set up camp in the lair. Unfortunately, one goblin didn't get space because of Mog's chamber. He was angry.  
"I spend all my precious time coming here to settle, and I can't even settle! What kind of place is this?"  
The imps frantically started digging out from the lair, trying to extend it. But they were unsuccessful in completing that task on time. The angry goblin began to leave. The imps hurriedly continued their task and began building more lair space. Fortunately, Raza woke up, though dazed, and he bumped into the goblin. "Hi...are you here to...set up camp?"  
"No! What kind of screwed up place has a really huge building in the center of the lair? I am leaving!"  
"No, no, please don't...See, my friends will have a lair for you soon..."  
The goblin pushed past Raza and headed for the portal anyway. The imps got done with their task, but this goblin would not listen to reason. He was moving along at an incredible pace when he bumped into something. He tried to push against it, but it didn't move. He stared up at it.  
"INFIDEL! YOU DARE PUSH MOG? I WILL BRING MY WRATH UPON YOU!"  
The goblin felt himself being lifted off his feet. He batted against Mog's bulk, but had no effect on the dark angel. Mog threw the goblin into the lair and started moving towards him. Raza stood in the way.  
"I've put up with your arrogance. I even stayed silent when you built your room in the center of the lair. But this is enough. Leave that goblin alone. Leave him alone or I will - "  
Mog picked Raza up by his throat. The rest of the imps gathered around, trying to plead with Mog. Raza hung there like a limp rag doll.  
"YOU WILL DO NOTHING, SLAVE OF RATHIEL. I AM MOG, AND I WILL AVENGE MYSELF ON THE INFIDEL."  
He tossed Raza casually across the room. Raza flew over the dungeon heart and hit the wall, sliding to the cold, wormy earth. Mog was starting over towards the goblin in the lair again when he suddenly decided it wasn't worth the energy anymore. He walked away to look over his temple.  
Raza's friends helped him up. They chided him.  
"You really shouldn't have done that."  
"Yeah, now Mog will roast you for sure."  
"Did you think you could help the goblin any?"  
Raza just dusted himself off and went into the lair to help set up the goblin's sleeping quarters. Turning back, he said to his friends, "Help him? He's not dead, is he?"  
***  
Rathiel was incredibly proud of Raza. Such a small creature, with the guts to challenge Mog, was refreshing. Rathiel felt terrible that Raza had been roughed up like that, and he swore that it was time to strike out himself. After all, he was the dungeon keeper. He was all done with letting Mog walk on him.  
The imps were next instructed through their telepathic link that an arcane library was needed. Rathiel intended to set the goblins to work on research. He knew, of course, that they would have to be trained for it; still, he needed them researching spells for him immediately.  
Rathiel focused his osmotic learning upon the room where there was to be a library. He soaked up the spirit and presence in the air there. As the arcane books were pumped through the portal, Raza had to be chained down because of his hyperactive senses. The other imps were carrying all the books back to the library, and the goblins were helping to shelve them. As a result, many books wound up either backwards, upside down, or over-crammed. As the last book came through the portal, Raza could finally be unchained. He looked over the library and saw the disorder.  
Taking advantage of the residual energy boost, he ran around the room, switching and turning books, then replacing them. He managed to finish one whole shelf before this wore off and he dropped, dead tired. The other imps trained the goblins, and they finished for Raza.  
Rathiel felt the power of the lore seeping into him. He relaxed in its arcane peace, and waded through the black pools to find the pearls of knowledge. "Soon," he thought, "it will be time to put away childish things..."  
Mog had the imps working on completing his temple. It needed only a few more elements to be complete in his vision. One imp was chiseling the statue intricately. The rest were designing the pool and carrying in water buckets. There simply were not enough imps for Mog's taste, though; the work was not proceeding to his liking. Mog strode out and made demands to Rathiel in the dungeon heart.  
"KEEPER, I DESIRE MORE IMPS FOR THE BUILDING OF MY TEMPLE. YOU WILL DO THIS NOW."  
Rathiel was distracted from the lore, and he dropped what he was researching. This was very annoying and irritating to him. He wished Mog would just be content; the imps he had were doing their level best. Rathiel spent half of his power before Mog felt he had enough imps.  
Now, the water was going back and forth like crazy. The pool had been fully dug, and the water level quickly reached the level Mog wanted. Now, Rathiel was required to pump all the mana he could into the temple, to kick-start the fires and keep them burning. Rathiel communicated with Raza. "Raza...Raza...I need your help, Raza..."  
Raza got up, confused and groggy. "Wh-whaat?"  
"You must keep the fires burning in Mog's temple. I need the focus to learn more spells. If you do this for me, I will soon be able to kill Mog."  
When this clicked, Raza was instantly feeling perky. "All right! I'll do it!"  
***  
Raza headed straight for the temple of Mog. He looked it over. The holes had been dug and ash-coated, and fuel was added. However, the fires were not started yet.  
Raza turned to Mog. "O great one! Most revered and holy! Were you but to display your power, I would be greatly awed! Prove your power to us! Light the eternal fires of your temple!"  
Mog seemed pleased. "EXCELLENT, SLAVE OF THE KEEPER. YOU MAY YET BE A WORTHY SACRIFICE. I SHALL DISPLAY FOR YOU THE POWER OF MOG!"  
At that, flames leapt from Mog's chest and spit outward, spreading across the entire pool. The flames were all set to burning at once. The fire clipped a few imps, and they jumped into the pool to put it out.  
"INFIDELS! YOU PROFANE MY SACRED POOL WITH YOUR LOWLY SELVES? YOU SHALL BE SACRIFICED!"  
Mog's hand of ethereal power struck out and created a whirlpool. The imps were dragged down with the current and drowned at the bottom. Raza watched in horror, and for all his compassion, he could only think, "I'm next." For in fact, he was. Mog didn't like him one bit.  
"IT IS FINISHED! THE FIRES MUST REMAIN BURNING DAY AND NIGHT! GLORY TO MY TEMPLE! GLORY TO ME!"  
The dead imps floated to the top of the pool, and Mog incinerated their corpses. The ash spread throughout the pool, and Mog felt the power. "AT LAST! MY TEMPLE IS GIVING ME POWER! ALL SLAVES OF THE KEEPER, ALL UNWORTHY ONES, GIVE YOUR PRAISE TO ME! MAKE ME STRONGER THAN GOD!"  
Raza turned his eyes from the pool and cried. "He's mad, he's mad, he's mad..."  
Rathiel moved through the lore to his fastest pace. He searched for something, anything, which could harm Mog. He passed many books, and searched through ancient tomes and scrolls. Only one thing came close, but it would require a huge investment of power. Rathiel did not have that power. He pondered the issue furiously, and finally hit upon something that might work. It was, however, a desperate attempt.  
Rathiel rested and built up his power. The library was feeding him, though not as much as Mog gained from his temple. This would have to be done right, and he only had one shot. He would do it when he was certain of his power.  
***  
The next day, Mog decided he was going to eliminate all his opponents. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out who had to be killed, and who would serve him. He knew for a fact that Raza would never submit. But a bigger problem was Rathiel. A dungeon keeper, however weak, could be a problem. Mog was confident in his ability to defeat all of them, though.  
Raza was helping the goblin who had been attacked by Mog. Somewhat less indignant, the goblin had told Raza his name. It was Klorin. Klorin was hoping to have his lair set up within the hour, so he could sleep decently.  
Raza was in the middle of building the foundation when Mog came and grabbed him by the back of the throat. Raza struggled helplessly as the dark angel lifted him and began carrying him away. The goblins and imps all rushed at Mog, attacking with their small rapiers and fists, but Mog simply cast them all away with one blast of nova flames. Many were left unconscious, one even died. Raza couldn't even turn around to face Mog from his position.  
"Put me down, you evil monster! You arrogant, slimy excuse for a creature of darkness! PUT ME DOWN!"  
"YOU REFUSED TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT I AM YOUR GOD. YOU MUST BE SACRIFICED BEFORE MY VICTORY CAN BE COMPLETE."  
"Rathiel will kill you if you do anything to me!"  
Rathiel indeed saw this. He had been preparing his power, but the action he had planned would not be easy. He needed Mog to get closer. He watched in despair as Mog took Raza to the temple pool.  
From the dark recesses of the stagnant pond, a large water snake rose.  
"THIS SLAVE OF THE KEEPER IS NOW BEFORE YOU, GUARDIAN OF MY TEMPLE. I THROW HIM TO YOU NOW, AS A SACRIFICE TO ME."  
Raza braced himself as he felt the air move around him. He was going into the pool with the dark snake. Mog turned away and headed for the dungeon heart, to finish off Rathiel. Raza landed in the water with a large splash, and the snake began going after him!  
Rathiel saw Mog coming. He prepared himself. As soon as Mog got into the room with the dungeon heart, Rathiel spent all his energy at once. He cast himself from the dungeon heart, into the portal. From there, he refracted his spirit through its magical energy and catapulted himself into Mog. As they collided, Mog's spirit was wrenched from his body and they both arrived together on the astral plane. Rathiel appeared in the physical form of a cloaked angel with a shining sword. Mog appeared as himself, though he was quite a bit larger than Rathiel in this plane. Rathiel wished he had gotten more energy, but with Raza's predicament, he had no choice. It was time to put away childish things.  
"Mog, the would-be god? I am Rathiel, Dungeon Keeper of this realm. You can die forever here. As a matter of fact, you will."  
Rathiel charged at Mog with his sword. It shone in the light, but also reflected darkness. Mog attempted to blast Rathiel with his magic, but no fire came. Mog was caught off guard, and he took the hit. It pierced his side, but was comparable to nothing more than a papercut.  
"You amuse me, Rathiel. I would not have expected you to try this. If it's a physical confrontation you want, I must oblige you."  
Mog swung his powerful arm down upon Rathiel, who dodged it quite easily. However, this was followed up by a swift kick, and this one sent Rathiel flying. He spiraled in the arc and used his sword to balance the landing. Then, Mog came at him, quickly.  
Outside, Raza was swimming in the water. The snake was much bigger than him, and was quite fast. It had bitten him, drawing blood, which colored the water. Raza retaliated by hitting the snake on the head. He grabbed it by the teeth and wrenched it off of him, hanging on to his reeling senses by sheer determination.  
The snake pulled back, trying to free itself. It lashed out with its tail, bringing it above the surface to do more damage to Raza's head. Raza dodged the blows and took in a deep breath. Then, he kicked backwards with all his might and turned over, dragging the serpent down into the murky depths.  
Rathiel thrust his sword outward as Mog ran towards him. Mog threw himself backward into a roll in an attempt to dodge. When Mog did this, Rathiel was able to jump on him and push his sword into Mog's chest. Mog felt it go in, and he grabbed it, pulling on it. He got it out before it reached his heart, but some damage had been done. Mog bled from the open wound, and he knew he couldn't heal it.  
Rathiel laughed and jumped forward, rolling on the ground and slicing a blow to Mog's legs. Mog jumped above it and started coming down on Rathiel. Rathiel let go his sword so he could roll out of the way, and Mog landed on the flat scimitar, crushing it in two under his heel.  
Raza was fighting hard against the serpent, but his air was running out. He pulled the beast towards the underwater wall of the pool and searched for a weak spot. Still holding the serpent by the teeth, he found a dirt spot where the wall had cracked away. Raza grappled the wall with his legs, and in a burst of strength, he thrust the teeth into the dirt, getting the snake stuck.  
Quickly he swam to the surface. He got half a lungful of water, and vomited on the surface of Mog's pool. He thrashed about, sick and nearly drowned. Cold panic set in, as he realized how much blood he had lost; the water was red. He climbed from the pool and lay on the ground, convulsing with pain.  
Mog advanced toward Rathiel, who backed away. This was not a confrontation that he could win. Mog laughed and ran at Rathiel, overtaking him and pounding him thoroughly. He enjoyed the damage he was doing, because he knew he would soon rule the dungeon. After all the times he was defeated and banished, he would finally know god-hood.  
Mog stood over Rathiel. "Now, Keeper, you can die forever here. In fact, I believe you will. Do you have anything you wish to make known?"  
Raza stood up. The world was a haze, but he started moving toward what seemed to be a wall. He reached out and fell against it. Yes, it was a wall. Built by imps, of course. He edged along it; he knew exactly how all the walls in the dungeon were constructed, without thinking about it. This ability enabled him to quickly grope his way to the dungeon heart. As he began to break free of the haze, he saw Mog. Mog was just standing there, not moving.  
Raza didn't know what Rathiel was doing, but this was his chance, anyway. He ran to one of the fallen goblins and took a rapier. He turned again and faced Mog.  
Rathiel looked up at Mog. Mog was about to bring a crushing blow down upon his head. He rolled clumsily to dodge it, but this left him completely immobile after the beating he had received. He looked up at the grinning dark angel and realized he was dead forever. It had been a damn fine run.  
Mog prepared to bring the final blow upon Rathiel, when suddenly he reared back. His neck flung itself rigid, and his head jerked with it. Mog seemed to be grasping at the air behind him. Rathiel, with renewed confidence, scrambled over to his broken sword. Carefully picking up the edged piece, he forced himself to his feet, and he jumped on Mog's shoulder. Swinging around, he shoved the blade into the wound Mog already had. This time, he drove it straight through, piercing the heart of the dark angel and bringing him down at last.  
Rathiel dispersed himself from the astral plane. He would have to regain his power from scratch, but at least Mog was dead. He had yet to figure out what had really happened. In the physical world, a tiny creature lay dead before the heart of the dungeon. His blood was spilled to the point of no return, and the body of Mog lay over him. 


	2. Keeper of Legend, Chapter 2: Palori

Palori  
  
"Charge! Kill them all! We must protect our land from the Keeper!"   
Rathiel had just gotten back from the fight with Mog, and a raiding party was attacking his dungeon. This did not look good for him. The goblins were scattered, and in no mood to fight right now. He looked around for his imps. All accounted for...but where was Raza? Rathiel scanned the entire dungeon for him, until he finally looked right under his nose.   
"Raza...dead? No. It can't be. Raza!"   
The enemy raiding party was at the dungeon heart!   
"Hey, guys! It's a dead Dark Angel! And there's something else here, too..."   
A strong wind blew. The dungeon heart shook and warped as the power flowed forth from it. A power beyond anything they could fight was coming out, and the voice on the wind was that of the Keeper.   
"Touch thou not the hallowed dead!"   
The raiding party was sent flying back until a wall stopped them hard. The strongest of them averted instant death and struggled to move against the wind. He fell to the earth and crawled beneath the force, trying to escape. Rathiel shifted his attack to strike the hero, but as the hero felt the change, he turned his body, and was sent flying into the tunnel they had carved, landing on his back. He got up and turned quick tail, aiming to return to his encampment. Rathiel was left to mourn the dead, and prepare for a war with the lord of this realm.   
The imps carried Raza to the temple. Rathiel had been working over it since the death of Mog, fighting his energies and attempting to reclaim the temple for his own. He prayed to the dark gods to take this temple and make it one of their hallowed sanctuaries. The guardian whom Mog had created soon vanished entirely from the temple. They could begin the ceremony.   
"I am Rathiel, the Keeper. The loss of Raza has left us all grieving. Behold, I have reclaimed the temple for the dark gods. Let us give Raza's spirit over to them."   
The imps spoke their last silent sorrows, and lowered the body of Raza into the temple font. He slowly sank in the water, disappearing from the mortal coil. It was finished.   
  
After getting the body of Mog out of the way, the imps slowly set their minds back to the tasks required of them, repairing the dungeon and collecting gold and materials. They had built a lair, hatchery, and temple. Now they had to train their creatures for war. The ability to build a training room was fed into their minds by the Keeper. They excavated the proper room space from the cold earth, and lo! They discovered a vein of gold. Two of the imps picked up all the gold they could, stuffing it in their mouths, carrying it in a pile in their arms, and delivering it in a few trips to the dungeon heart. They could now proceed. Training dummies would be needed, along with a few bullseyes and rotating columns. They would use the ceiling as well as the ground and walls, by adding trapezes, rings, and other things to use which hung from spherical north. Climbing upon one another, the imps added all they were told to add. Rathiel watched them and once again wished Raza were alive. "He used his imagination, for dark gods' sake!"   
The goblins had mourned their dead in the goblin way. Now, the imps committed the corpses to the dark gods. As this occurred, the gods returned something to Rathiel, as through the portal entered a small bevy of salamanders. Three large, orange-red lizards with forked tongues and long, heavy tails waddled on their four short, little legs into the dungeon.   
"Hey, Plorka! Nice place we found, eh?"   
"Yeah, it'll suit well. Heh, we even got a training room here for us! Let's try it out after we settle in!"   
The third member of their group remained silent as he looked around. It was familiar to him somehow. He couldn't place it, but he knew he'd been here before. He shrugged off the feeling and went with the crew to train.   
"So how do you like the new digs, Gump?"   
"They're pretty good, Plorka. I just had a great meal. They really know how to feed a creature, heh heh heh!"   
"And this training room. It's superb! I'm getting stronger every minute. I can't wait to test my skills out on some self-righteous heroes!"   
"Me either! I'll crush their necks like so many scrawny chickens!"   
"I'll tear their heads off!"   
"Whad'you think our silent friend'll do?"   
The other salamander simply continued training in silence. He appeared to be testing out the entire structure, as if appraising its architecture. He gave a satisfied smile when he was done, and he went to his lair. He would train again tomorrow.   
The imps came to his lair to talk to him. "Hey, how you doing?"   
The salamander lazily turned his head up. "I'm doing all right."   
"We're doing a census for the Keeper. We got the names of the other salamanders logged, but we don't have yours. What is your name?"   
"Raza."   
  
Rathiel was aware that a hero had escaped. He instructed his imps to dig out a medium-sized area for a prison. The plans were fed into the minds of the imps, and they built at their best speed. They had grown in strength and speed since they had entered the dungeon and it proved itself now as the imps rushed to finish the task.   
The 2 salamanders in the training room were getting stronger by the minute. They were learning to use skills that they hadn't realized they had. They now were breathing fire and manipulating it to form projectiles as well as infernal blasts tethered in their throats. After burning up 3 dummies and forcing the poor imps to replace them, they decided to go spar with one another to continue training.   
A group of heroes, hearing the tale from the escaped dwarf, were poised to attack Rathiel. Knowing that Rathiel was an active Keeper, they prepared themselves for magical assaults, as well as those of the creatures. This was a band that did not fear simple goblins. They gathered all together and breached the walls, bursting into Rathiel's dungeon with the sound of war trumpets!   
The imps received news of this from Rathiel, and as 3 of them finished the prison, the other one dashed about, warning the creatures about the breach. The salamanders hid themselves near the dungeon heart, semi-camouflaged by its colors. Raza, who had not yet trained his skills, came out of his lair to see what was happening. He watched for a minute, then went back into his lair to grab a few things. He lay flat and used his front arms to tie them together with a stout string, then grabbed the string with his tail and tried a few practice swings.   
The heroes were fighting with the goblins. The goblins inflicted partial damage, but couldn't kill the heroes. The strongest of the knights came to the front and started destroying the goblins, who fled from his wrath. Thus the first line was broken.   
Two salamanders, Gump and Plorka, lay still in wait at the heart. Suddenly, they leapt up, spitting flaming missiles at the enemy. This took them by surprise, and they pulled back into the temple. From there, Raza dropped from the ceiling, pinning one and swinging his tail mace to hit the others. The salamanders ran up from the dungeon heart and immolated the heroes that Raza had not injured yet. The goblins banded together again and came to finish the job, using their small rapiers well. The imps came with orders from Rathiel, and the creatures knocked the enemies out without killing them. Then, they helped the imps to drag the bodies to the prison.   
Rathiel stretched out his invisible hand and plucked some chickens from the hatchery to feed the prisoners. He wanted them alive for the time being. A new plan had come into his mind. With this plan, he would further glorify his dungeon and make it great in the eyes of all.   
  
"Palori. Most trusted, honorable friend." A holy man drew forth from his bedchamber, clad in many vestments of the church. Standing tall, the bishop exuded an aura of peace and goodness. He was addressing Palori, the outcast crusader. Palori stood reverent, eyes locked upon the holy face of Bishop Turino, who spoke grave words. "Palori. The demonic powers of Hell have many strongholds on this world. These powers must not be underestimated. You have felt the radiance of heat from the tunnels under our city?"   
"Yes, monsignor Turino. They grow stronger. They have claimed lives. The survivor of a raiding party brought news of supernatural powers assailing them. That wretched, soul-sick dwarf spoke in mad tongues of the event, just before passing into glory."   
"God rest his soul."   
"It is my fear that such is not the case. His was a maddened spirit. We should be afraid of sleep in the days to come. I shall gather my closest lieutenants and prepare a full-scale assault on this...dungeon keeper."   
Palori, outcast crusader, left with the benediction of Bishop Turino, and rode his armored steed into the dark night, towards the Brigante Inn, where a fat drunkard with a love for life would join his cause.   
  
Implements of torture began to stockpile in the newly excavated space. The imps were designing them from the metals they had mined and mana provided by Rathiel. Driven by the keeper's mind, they created a torture chamber the likes of which would break the will of the strongest heroes. Wretched shells of the righteous existed in a prolonged, pitiful state.   
It was not long before the torture chamber attracted the attention of a pair of dark mistresses; they were sadistic, psychotic women who were totally given over to evil. The twisted sisters of the underworld. Laughing maniacally, they bunked down in the lair, and upon a suggestion from Rathiel, they rushed to the prison without delay. Each of them chose one captive to play with. In their righteousness, they resisted the temptations of the dark mistresses, but in so doing, they misread the game that was being played. They were raked across their faces with long, sharp nails and taken to the torture chamber. This was the mistress' job, and she loved it.   
  
"Eh? Izzat you, Palori?" Derek del Rolland had had one too many, again.   
"Yes, Derek, zat iz me, as you say. Have you been drinking?"   
"I...most CERTAINLY...'ave NOT been finking. Or, thinking. No, no drinking me done."   
"Derek..."   
"All-right! I, Derek del Foppit...stop it...I, DEREK, am most definitely...intoxicated. Barkeep!"   
A shaven man with the age of many years and the wisdom of many more came to the calling of the champion of Rolland. "Sir, I will not serve you any more tonight. A man should only get drunk once at a time."   
"I...will tell YOU...when I am drunk!"   
"You are drunk, Derek."   
"LORD Derek...is not intoxicated!"   
Palori paid the barkeep 3 silver coins and motioned away. The barkeep understood, and he left the two friends to have a heart-to-heart.   
"Derek. I've got a calling for you."   
Derek seemed to sober up almost immediately. "What is it, friend?"   
"The dungeon keeper has returned. I want to lead an army to dispel the archfiend from our realm. You are my longest, closest friend. Will you aid me?"   
"Palori. I may have some years on me since my glory days...and a certain circumference...but my sword is still the mightiest in Rolland, and I cast it with you."   
Lord Derek del Rolland drew a gem-encrusted, gold-laced silver sword from its hilt and held it betwixt him and his old comrade. "Thrice-blessed by Monsignor Turino, this sword has a spirit all its own. Like me, it has aged, but not rusted. May His grace grant that we win the day."   
  
A knight and a holy monk were withstanding torture at the hands of the dark mistresses. The well-crafted devices made it very difficult to resist, but to the annoyance of the torture experts, the heroes' wills did not break. No matter, it would simply take time.   
Drabl, the confused goblin, could not sleep. The screaming and shouting from the torture chamber woke him up every time he reached the fringe of unconsciousness. Grumbling, he went to the torture chamber, where the frustrated dark mistresses tried, to no avail, to convert the enemies to their cause.   
Drabl walked right up to the large enemy knight who was being held in an electrocution seat. "I am called Drabl, from what I hear. I'm trying to sleep. Please shut up. It can't be that bad, can it?"   
He strode a few steps to his right and stood by of the monk on the rack. "I want to go to bed. Could you possibly be a little more quiet?"   
The monk turned his head with care and spit hatefully into Drabl's face. Drabl wiped it off slowly and climbed onto the rack. "Why do you spit in my face? It does no damage; it is cleared in a mere moment...what is the purpose? I just want you to stop making noise. Is that so wrong?"   
Drabl pulled out a chicken from his pouch. "Here's a chicken...would you like to eat it?"   
The monk struggled with the binding of the rack, causing pain and injury to himself as he single-mindedly tried to get the dangling foodstuff. Drabl waved it about hypnotically, back and forth, until the monk finally cried out in rage. Drabl stuffed the chicken full into his open mouth.   
Drabl returned to the knight. As this was going on, the dark mistresses watched, perplexed but intrigued. Somehow this little, sleepy, confused, cranky goblin was playing havoc with the wills of the victims. Drabl spoke carefully to the knight. "Your friend there has a chicken for a face."   
The knight struggled with his chair's binding straps. Drabl walked nonchalantly behind the chair and saw a control panel. "What does this one do..."   
Sparks flew as the screaming knight was fried half to death. Drabl walked back around and stood in front of him. "Now that was silly. Why'd you try that?"   
The knight's senses swam, but he managed to stay conscious and spit violent words out. "I...will never...surrender!"   
"Sucks to be you. I still want you to tone it down a bit." Drabl kicked the knight in the shins and went back over to the monk. "Hey, you want that chicken out of your mouth?"   
The monk nodded vigorous agreement.   
"Then do it yourself." Drabl returned again to the knight. "Hi again. Yes, yes, we know. You will never surrender." Drabl turned to the mistresses. "Take this one to the prison and let him watch."   
Shrieking with delight, the vixens grabbed the powerless knight and pulled him back to the prison, holding him just outside. It was just in time, as the knight's comrades in the prison began to give in to starvation. A fragile fairy keeled over; it was too much for her to handle. But that was not the end. Her flesh melted away and her bones rose into a walking horror. An undead skeleton waved its sword and roared at the knight, who broke down into sobs. The mistresses brought him back to the chamber to finish breaking his will.   
  
Palori and Derek knew where to go from the Brigante Inn. The castle of Leopold the Third was surrounded by a bustling town known as Sprigon. There, they would raise an army to go forth and annihilate the dungeon's foul power. The daylight began to show over the horizons of the great, dark sky. Already people woke, setting up shop and preparing for an honest day's work. Soldiers periodically patrolled the outskirts of the realm, making the inhabitants feel safe at home. Palori and Derek discussed their plans as the daylight struck chords in the heavens.   
Early in the morning, the legendary heroes traveled to King Leopold's castle. Members of his court, who recognized the valiant duo, greeted them warmly. They took them straightaway to see the king, all the while asking them to recount the tales of their exploits. Derek was more than happy to brag. He laughed heartily as he launched the stories of the great battles.   
"Ha, my good man! Yes, it was I who stood alone against the goblin hordes of Cyrith! Their numbers seemed immeasurable, but I, I was not afraid, ho ho! No, I stood tall and challenged the goblin leader himself!"   
Palori's eyes flashed with sudden mischief. "Indeed, a fine job, my friend. The little fellow was nearly 2 feet tall."   
"Ah! You jest and mock my glorious triumph! With my trusty sword, I cleaved his foul head from his shoulders!"   
"You had to kneel to do it. Ha!"   
"Many a mighty foe has fallen to their knees before me! The victories I scored outnumber your taunts!"   
"Many women of questionable character have also gone to their knees for you."   
"Ah. You have struck me far below my heart, Palori."   
"Let us end this repartee in good character! We have both had many a glorious moment! But it was you who was the savior of Rolland in the goblin seiges!"   
"And it was you, my dear friend, who has never failed as retainer to the Leopold family."   
The loyal guards stopped at a well-adorned door and turned to face the legends of the kingdom. "His Royal Majesty, King Leopold the Third!"   
The legends entered to discuss grave matters with their highness.   
  
Knight and monk, together in the torture chamber, left to die by the automated devices. There is a unique bond among living beings who share a similar fate. So it was that the wretches who were once righteous men watched the faces of each other as they prepared for oblivion. Each watched the other for signs; would one of them surrender? It was a contest now. The holy man, or the man of chivalry. As their eyes locked in the final game, a dark mistress sauntered into the room. She waited until the men were at the point of death...then released them from their devices and had them brought back to the prison. Rathiel healed them in body, but not in spirit, as they stood among the skeletal demons who were once their friends.   
The goblins and salamanders shared the training room, honing their strengths and skills. Rathiel knew that he could not hold off an army of heroes. He thought about this problem, and chose to focus on the temple. Mog had managed to summon a guardian water snake in its font. Could Rathiel do the same, on a larger scale? He was, after all, a Keeper.   
Rathiel put out a call. The library began to attract warlocks, who buried themselves happily in its arcane lore. The spells they uncovered gave Rathiel greater power. But it would take much time before he could use the devastating magicks he had heard legends of. The great Keepers of legend - Arcand, Krelthic, Revena - they had used powers beyond the known limits of Keeper magick. Where were those legendary Keepers now?   
Surely they had ascended to greater conquests. Rathiel imagined meeting those great ones someday.   
As Rathiel prayed to the dark gods, he enveloped himself in their strange spirituality, and soon began to visualize a persona, which they had chosen to represent themselves. A dark-winged bird with seven green, snakelike heads attached to long, thin necks, and the mace-tail of an otherworldly scorpion. "What want you, Rathiel? We have little time or patience for you." "Most unholy and powerful messenger of the dark gods, I beseech you ask of Rathiel's need for a great guardian to aid in the defense of his dungeon." "It is not often that we oblige whining, pathetic Keepers. Do you think that we will waste our energies on you simply because you had a poor start? Deal with your own difficulties, Rathiel."   
At that, the persona vanished, and Rathiel went back into his dungeon's heart. Disappointed, but not despairing, he ordered the redoubling of efforts in his library. His warlocks worked faster and more efficiently by his instruction, and he began to feel new powers invigorating him almost immediately. Rathiel waded through the lore that was fed to him, and he began to improvise things to do with the nether elements. Perhaps that was what made the difference between an ordinary Keeper, and Arcand's circle?   
Revelations and new ideas spiraled like mad insects in his essence. Equations and weapons were in his reach. He buried himself in the pursuit of powers that would turn his weak dungeon into a strong and defendable kingdom.   
  
King Leopold listened with grave intensity as Palori recounted the tale. A Keeper with active magick would clearly be difficult, if not impossible, to fight. The fact that this Keeper had improvised his powers proved even more a challenge. They had no idea what to expect.   
"Palori, Lord Derek, your story is frightening. If we are to defeat this Keeper, we must organize a crushing assault. We have not but twelve in the entire realm with real fighting strength. We have you, Palori, my greatest retainer. We have you, Lord Derek of the Blessed Sword. Then there are the nine elite guardians of my castle. Finally, for the twelfth, I, King Leopold the Third, shall join you."   
Palori rose with a start. "Your Highness! If something should happen to you, who will lead the realm?"   
Leopold smiled widely. "Why, Palori! Nothing shall happen to me as long as you are there. I am shocked that you have such doubt in yourself!"   
"But Majesty..."   
"Do not worry, Palori. I did not become King by eating fine pastries. I will organize my elite guard. Meet me in my chamber when you see the sun setting in the sky."   
King Leopold the Third strode forth, finding all his retainers in the royal court and organizing them for the final meeting.   
  
Rathiel used his newfound powers to look outward beyond his dungeon's sight range. He spent a long while scanning and searching for the tunnels that led into his realm from the world above. During this time, the warlocks continued to discover new lore, and the goblins and salamanders began to hold sparring matches, which the salamanders always won. After long searched down many corridors of dirt and rock, Rathiel found the portal used by the heroes. It was an oddly shaped portal, but it seemed to serve its purpose. Rathiel marked its location in memory and returned to the dungeon heart, from which he could order his imps to dig a path to the heroes' entry point.   
The goblins were becoming slightly upset that they had nothing to do except get beaten up by the salamanders day in and day out. Rathiel remedied this problem by putting them in the temple for a while so some of the imps could dig the space for a casino. He put three of his seven imps on the job of building it for the unhappy goblins. Meanwhile, the rest of the imps were digging their way to the hero portal.   
Rathiel began searching for more hero entry points as the first one was being mapped out. The fact that the first one was surrounded mostly by solid rock meant that he could not claim and destroy it, because he could not dig a perimeter for it. He prepared for what would surely be an onslaught. It was fortunate for him that it was at least considerable distance from his dungeon.   
  
The guards were all with Palori, Derek, and their king in the pre-raid planning. All of them were prepared for a battle from which they may not return. They were going to enter through the portal and strike down the Keeper's minions, then destroy the dungeon heart itself. The king asked the assembly if any of them wished to leave, and none did. Their plan had been laid out, and it was simple. It would be important to head straight for the heart, without stopping unnecessarily for enemy creatures. All were in agreement, and at last the valiant men mounted their horses and set out for the portal.   
Monsignor Turino came forth from his chapel on the roadside and saw King Leopold and his guard riding towards the portal. Leopold put out his right hand to order a halt, and the company waited as the king spoke to Turino.   
"My honorable bishop, you have served the realm excellently. In my absence, I place the rule of the kingdom in your hands. Hold out your hands."   
The bishop gazed in wonderment at his king. He humbly placed his outstretched arms before Leopold, kneeling on one knee. The king dropped a gem into Turino's hands.   
"My liege...what is this?"   
"It is a Portal Gem, Bishop Turino. The wise men of the first Keeper war designed these gems to seal the portals and protect us from the invasions of the Keeper and his minions. It was not the warriors who finally drove back Arcand, but the wise men who sealed him out of the sunlit kingdom. We do not know what became of Arcand after his exile, but we can only assume he has returned. If this is so, you must take the Portal Gem - "   
Leopold closed the bishop's hands around the diamond key, solemnly.   
"You must take the Portal Gem and consider yourself the new King."   
With those words, Leopold climbed back on his steed and rode off with the company, to reach the portal and discover if Arcand had indeed returned.   
  
Rathiel drew himself back into the dungeon heart and restored his mana, the ethereal force, which powered all his magick. It would take some time to restore it to a sufficient level. He sent the warlocks to pray in the temple, an action which generated more mana and allowed him to restore more quickly. Then, he saw it.   
First came King Leopold. The crown and shield set him apart immediately as the realm's Lord. Next came Palori, the strong, tall retainer to the king, in his shining armor, and wielding his unique triple-spiked long hammer. Lord Derek del Rolland followed, wearing simple leather hides, and standing firm in his large frame, gripping his blessed sword with both hands. The trio moved into the subterranean realm a short distance to allow the rest of the guard to step in behind them.   
"It is certainly Arcand's style," observed King Leopold. "Few other Keepers were so confident as to tunnel directly into the main gates to our kingdoms. There is water here. Everyone, step off the land into the water, quickly!"   
No sooner had the company done this than a powerful blast of lightning struck where they had been. Leopold had observed from his battles with Arcand that Keepers could not cast spells over an area they had not claimed as their own.   
Rathiel cursed to himself and sent an imp to cautiously approach the heroes. The imp nervously complied, running headlong down the path until reaching the last steps of the tunnel. The imp inched his way towards the place where the heroes were pushing through the water, preferring to get back on the land no earlier than was required. As the imp came into view, Rathiel ordered it to hold its position. King Leopold held back his guards when they desired to rush the imp. He allowed one of the guards to step out of the water and strike the creature down.   
The imp stood its ground, watching the guard stride towards it. Rathiel played his cards then, using a magickal blast to send the imp flying into the guard's face. As it flew, its skin peeled back and fell to the cold earth as the imp transformed into an incendiary missile, which exploded upon contact with the guard's surprised face. The guard's entire body was instantly incinerated, and the blast sent King Leopold, who was closest, toppling backwards into the water. Palori rushed to the king's aid, and helped him stand up again as the shocked company surveyed the carnage. Leopold was first to speak.   
"That is not Arcand's style. We are facing an opponent with an unpredictable strategy. There is only one choice. Onward! We must rush the Heart!"   
Roaring and charging, the heroes waved their weapons in the air as they dashed forth to the center of the dungeon.   
Following the paths of claimed land, they would quickly reach Rathiel's center of power. This could not be allowed to occur. Rathiel stirred up the salamanders and goblins, ordering the warlocks to remain in the temple so Rathiel could gain much-needed mana.   
Raza stood at the lead of the army of Rathiel, addressing them as a leader might. "Ok, friends. Rathiel tells me there are eight guards remaining, plus three unique-looking heroes. One of them is the king of this realm. We've got to win this by strategy, not strength. Gump, Plorka, and I will climb the walls and attach to the ceiling. From there, we can breathe fire down on the enemies. You goblins, hide in crevasses in the tunnel leading to the hero portal, so you can rush out suddenly and take them by surprise. Dark mistresses, you can attack any way you like. Move out!"   
As the creatures followed Raza's plan, Rathiel caused a tremor to shake the ground underneath the heroes' feet. All were knocked to the floor except the sturdy Derek, who stood in the midst of the tremor and even moved forward. Rathiel stopped the shaking of the earth and let fly a series of lightning bursts. The heroes struggled against the magickal onslaught, but Derek del Rolland rushed forth into the dungeon, yelling, "I'll distract him! Rally to me quick!"   
The blessed sword struck fear into the hearts of the creatures. The goblins did not dare attack, and even the salamanders, in their place of safety, did not breathe the flames. Rathiel had to shift his attention to Derek, allowing the rest of the enemy force to get up and advance. Palori was at the forefront, yelling, "DEREK!"   
The dark mistresses eyed Derek warily. The sword did not have the same effect on them, but they were still cautious to attack. Derek advanced towards them, waving the shining weapon and challenging them to a fight. All creatures but the dark mistresses were fixed frozen, with their eyes locked on the sword. The ten heroes in the rest of the band were coming through, following Derek.   
Rathiel possessed the mind of Raza and began spitting fireballs and breathing out infernos for all there was in Raza's body. He set fire to some of the guards, who tried to beat it out. Once he saw this, he quickly reverted to the dungeon heart's essence and cast a fiery blast in the center of the mass of guards. This did extreme damage to six of the remaining eight guards and the ones who survived were unable to continue the fight.   
King Leopold and Palori avoided this, being farther ahead than their guards were. Palori went back to check on the men, leaving his liege to back Derek up. He managed to get one of the guards up and back into the battle, despite a broken arm and leg.   
Upon seeing Leopold bearing down on them, the dark mistresses made their move. Striking together from different sides, they raked a scrape down Derek's stomach. Through his great bulk, though, little could be done. The guard Palori had helped was sitting down with a bow and quiver, making the most of his injured state. Leopold came to aid Derek, who was grunting from the scrape on his stomach. Palori came up next, and still the creatures were frightened of the Blessed Sword.   
Rathiel spent all his magickal power to create a mortal form of himself, nine feet tall and all in black, with a cloak, sword, and shield. He took Derek by surprise, suddenly appearing and cleaving his sword hand from his bones. Derek's sword, still in hand, flew across the room and landed on the ground after bouncing off the wall. Palori stopped to help Derek, while Leopold rushed to retrieve the blessed sword. Too late. Rathiel ran faster.   
Rathiel tossed his sword aside and picked up the blessed sword. It burned him with the holy invocations which had been spoken over it. He concentrated on the sword, and pulled it into his cloak as he returned to the dungeon heart with it. The dungeon heart grew sick, and started losing energy as Rathiel fought with the blessings of bishop Turino.   
The loss of the holy blade broke the trance of the creatures, which suddenly appeared out of nowhere, in good number. Eight goblins rushed from hiding to jump and strike at King Leopold. Palori grabbed at the tiny savages, but for every one he pulled off, another sprung back on. He began to take them and gut them through with his spiked hammer. Leopold struggled with the weight of the goblins and killed three of them, while Palori took down two. They were winning the battle, until a dark mistress came from behind and ran the good king through with her long-spiked knuckles. Leopold grunted deeply and pulled himself off the spike, falling into Palori's arms.   
Derek was fighting with the other dark mistress, weaponless. His arms were strong and heavy, but he could not land blows fast enough against her devices. Seeing the king fall, he ran headlong onto the dark mistress, using his great weight to push her back. He steered a path into a drove of nearby goblins, pushing off with his legs to force a landing on the hard ground. The spikes of the evil vixen pierced Derek's staunch heart, even as the fragile creature and the goblins behind her were crushed under the savior of Rolland.   
Palori held his King as he lay dying before the dungeon heart and their many foes. He wept as the greatest spirit of their realm traversed the great Divide. The creatures merely watched, silently taunting Palori. After wiping the tears from his eyes, Palori looked up.   
He had only a madness left, a desire to do nothing but kill. He swung his hammer around and cut open a nearby goblin. The salamanders came from behind him and burned him with their fire. It did no good.   
Palori, slightly singed but no less psychotic, turned and threw his hammer at the salamanders. He ran towards them and picked one up, strangling it. Raza saw what was happening to his friend, and he crawled along the ceiling, dropping on Palori from above. Raza bit Palori in the face, causing him to drop Gump. Palori grabbed Raza and tossed him aside, then whirled out, kicking two goblins across the room and picking up his hammer again.   
Rathiel had sustained great damage from the power of the thrice-blessed sword, but he had finally overcome it. Using the last of his mana, he rained lightning on Palori, to no avail. He was stunned only for a moment.   
All remaining creatures came at Palori for a rush attack, trying to overwhelm him. He swung his hammer outward, up to the right, and down in one spiraling motion. All the imps jumped on Palori from behind, pushing him to the ground, but he rolled out, swinging the hammer to kill four imps at once. He did a kip-up and spun about, jumping onto the dungeon heart and striking hard and fast with his spiked hammer. The creatures tried to pull Palori from the heart, clawing his legs and dragging his feet, but he held on strong.   
A surge of mana burst forth from the Portal. A large creature emerged from the nether realms. Attracted at last by the grandiose temple, a dark angel once again altered the balance within Rathiel's dungeon.   
Upon walking into the dungeon, he sensed the danger Rathiel was in. He strode forth with purpose, and as he saw Palori struggling against the other minions, he jumped over the dungeon heart in a spiraling roll, striking Palori with his great sword on the way down. Palori finally fell to the earth, grabbing at air and striking weakly at the heart for the hope of a final parting victory. The dark angel put the sword through Palori's head, finally bringing an end to the incursion.   
Rathiel breathed a quick sigh of relief. It was not the first time he had been rescued from near defeat. It seemed to be his new career. Healing would be a long affair. His realm had been crippled by the loss of so many minions, and soon he would have to somehow capture a Portal Gem. Those legendary objects allowed a Keeper to leave the dank, cold earth and pillage the countryside of the sunlit realms.   
  
Monsignor Turino held the Portal Gem in front of his face. The myriad clear shafts of light running through it painted illusions. This thing he held was the key to the incursion of the demonic presence below the earth. He questioned if a Keeper with the ingenuity of Arcand would not find another way. If the king and his guards were dead, than only he, Bishop Turino, could stand against the darkness. He sought his bedchamber, where he lay with troubled thoughts. 


End file.
